“Why didn’t you?” Eloise couldn’t keep the longing from her voice, and Destrian groaned.
“Because I wanted to avoid dragging you into a scandal. I decided to gather all the information I could—about you, about alternative ways to secure the alliance—whatever it took to convince my father to give us his blessing before I came courting.”
Eloise dragged in a ragged breath. “But before you were ready, Rulf came to you with his lies.”
The bleakness in Destrian’s eyes reminded her that he had believed she’d used him, that she didn’t care for him the way he cared for her.
“I agreed to marry Seraphina, even knowing she could barely stand the sight of me, as it didn’t matter who I wed if I couldn’t have you. But once I found out you loved me, marrying her was no longer an option.”
“No, I can see that it wouldn’t have been.” Eloise squeezed her eyes tight against the image of Destrian lying with the beautiful blonde princess. It pained her even more than the thought of her being forced to marry someone like Mr Festerly. Although how many young women—or princes, for that matter—got a say in who they wed?
“People don’t always get what they want, Destrian. While I can’t regret our being together, there are consequences to our actions. “
“I know.” He nodded solemnly. “Your concerns are valid, but I believe I can still do what is required of me, still fulfil my purpose and help bring peace to Varianda . . . with you at my side.”
“But I am nobody.”
A flash of what she suspected was anger crossed Destrian’s face, and he tightened his grip on her shoulder. “You are not nobody, Eloise. You are everything to me. But I need you to trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “With all my heart.”
“As I love you with all of mine.” Lowering his head, Destrian claimed her mouth, his kiss bypassing tender and going straight to demanding.
Chapter 18
The feel of Destrian’s lips pressed to her mouth distracted Eloise from her worries . . . but couldn’t banish them entirely. She had said she trusted him, and she did, but the obstacles looming over them, like the towers of Varianda Castle, seemed insurmountable. When he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips while he drew her against him, she had a choice to make—reject his advances, so she could continue fretting about matters over which she had little to no control . . . or welcome them. Choosing the latter, she opened her mouth, and Destrian’s tongue swept inside. He stroked and explored, his taste flooding her senses as their lips moved together under his gentle guidance.
They had spent hours kissing these past few days, but Eloise couldn’t imagine ever tiring of his touch or taste. Their kisses had taken many forms . . . soft and sweet, combining with affectionate nuzzles of lips and cheeks . . . long, languorous explorations of one another’s mouths where they had indulged their senses. . . to explosions of need, when passion overwhelmed them and Destrian’s tongue would demand entrance to her mouth. The rhythmic strokes mimicked the actions of his body when they were even more intimately engaged. Shy at first, Eloise had been the grateful, mostly passive recipient of his attention, but under his loving tutelage, her confidence had grown. She was yet to truly take the initiative, still a little astonished by the sheer variety of delights to which he had introduced her, but she certainly responded in kind.
This kiss had begun as a demand, but it gentled as he seemed set on reassuring her, his arms wrapping around her body and holding her close. With the tension slowly draining from her body, Eloise wound her arms around his neck, melting into his embrace. But then her muscles began to tighten for a different reason, as his caresses turned from comforting to arousing.
How quickly she had become attuned to his touch, like a long-neglected instrument brought to life in the hands of a master musician. She also suspected she was quite addicted to Destrian’s love making, her body responding as if it had been days or weeks since they were in each other’s arms, rather than a matter of hours.
A quiet, needy moan sounded in the back of Eloise’s throat, as Destrian’s hands roamed her body. His hands mapped the contours of her back, her hips, her sides, as if he was committing the shape of her curves to memory. His hungry kisses increased in urgency until they were tinged with desperation, his tongue probing the depths of her mouth again and again.
He was losing control.
So was she.
Forcing herself to resist the craving to greedily accept everything he had to give, Eloise broke the kiss. Hazy, but clinging to prudence, she opened her mouth to remind him—and herself in the process—that this was neither the time nor place. But in a move that stole what was left of her breath, he tucked an arm under her legs and lifted her onto his lap. Feeling his hardness beneath her, she came fully to her senses.
“Destrian, we are in a carriage. In broad daylight. We could be seen!”
He responded by lowering the blinds on the windows to either side of them, shrouding the interior in shadows. Even in the semi-darkness, Eloise could see a glint in his eyes that told her he would not be thwarted.
“Darling.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “The driver. Lord Winterfold. They’ll know what we’re doing.”
“They’ll suspect, but if we are quiet, they won’t know.”
“But we are on our way to the palace to plead our cause. I don’t want to be introduced to your parents with my hair all mussed, and my gown crushed or . . . or . . .” Eloise didn’t want to say stained, but she had been shocked to discover how messy love making could be.
“I shall be careful with your gown, and we can freshen up in my quarters before presenting ourselves.” Destrian’s low, heated tone weakened her resolve. “Please, Eloise. I need you.”
A moment’s hesitation was all it took for him to begin smoothing the velvet sleeves of her gown over her shoulders. As he pushed them down her arms, the bodice fell to her waist, baring her breasts to his hungry gaze. Eloise didn’t object or try to cover herself, as the truth of his plea rocked her to her core.
Destrian was right.
He did need her, and not just to assuage his desire. While he had been learning all about her during their time in seclusion, he had shared his own past, unwittingly revealing the insecurities that plagued him. Intelligent but reserved, he had struggled to meet the expectations of a crown prince . . . or any prince of the Three Realms. In a place where might so often triumphed over right, and violence was considered a fitting resolution to even minor disagreements, gentleness and compassion were seen as weaknesses, not strengths. Loyal to a fault, Destrian wasn’t one to seek out conflict, and it had taken courage to follow his heart rather than submit to a future mapped out for him by others. For the first time, instead of feeling guilty that he had come to her rescue, that he had done the unthinkable and married her, Eloise saw the wisdom of his choice.
She loved him for who he was.
She understood him and admired those traits that others scorned.
She would not let him down.
“I love you, Destrian. Whatever you want from me, whatever you need me to be, I am yours.”
He stilled at her words then lifted his head to meet her gaze. “You are already everything I want, everything I need, just the way you are.”
Her emotions had been close to the surface all morning, and Eloise fought back tears. Only it wasn’t anxiety about the coming confrontation that brought a lump to her throat this time, but Destrian’s words. They were the kindest she had ever heard. Gloria and her stepsisters had only ever found fault, their attitudes rubbing off on the other household staff who had not always been patient with its most downtrodden member. Ayleth had told her she deserved better, that her father would have defended her if he had lived. But after so many years of being reminded of her failings on an almost daily basis, Eloise had begun to believe herself worthless.
Not anymore.
Not to Destrian.
He valued and
needed her, as she did him.
“I believe you.” She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Just as you are everything I could possibly want.”
“Good.” He smiled and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Take off your gloves?” he asked, and she couldn’t help the frown that formed on her brow. It seemed not all her insecurities had been banished by her revelation.
“But the linen is so much smoother than my skin.”
“I don’t care. I want your hands on me.”
He practically growled the words, and Eloise nodded. Unable to deny him, she tugged each finger free before laying the gloves on the cloaks they had removed when they entered the carriage. Winter was well upon them, but a small, coal burning brazier had warmed the interior. Still, she shivered at the look that appeared in Destrian’s eyes as he opened his tunic. Catching hold of her hand, he brought it to his bare chest, so she could stroke him with her fingers.
“Like this?” she whispered, keeping her touch feather light lest she scratch him.
“Firmer.” He pressed her hand against him. “It’s all right, you won’t hurt me.”
“If you are sure?” Eloise’s brow furrowed as she caressed him, but his low, rumbling tone dispelled her doubts.
“Oh, I’m sure. I needed to feel you, not cloth.”
He moved beneath her, the delay having had little effect on the strength of his arousal. “It seems you have quite a few needs.” She smirked.
“Indeed, I do.” Destrian carefully lifted her gown out of the way then helped her to straddle his lap. Lord Winterfold’s early arrival had disrupted their morning plans, and she doubted Destrian would last overly long. It was probably a good thing, considering they had begun the slow climb up the mountain road to the castle. With time running out, and growing damp with her own need, Eloise rose up on her knees and lowered herself onto him. She hissed as she slowly took him inside her, feeling pleasure and a hint of tenderness.
His hands left their place at her breasts and moved to grip her waist. When he held her in place, she met his now troubled gaze.
“Forgive me, Eloise. I shouldn’t have insisted. You must think me a beast . . .”
“No, it’s all right,” she murmured, giving herself a moment to adjust before she began to move. “You feel so good inside me.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you.”
Their gazes locked, and she rode him in time with the rocking of the carriage.
“You aren’t. I don’t think you could ever hurt me.”
The air around them grew heavy with emotion . . . tenderness, need, and the heat of their desire. She didn’t expect to reach her destination until their carriage had driven all the way to the top of the mountain. But there was something about the urgency of the situation, and the starkness of Destrian’s need, that sent her spiralling towards her peak. When she began to pulse around him, he buried his face in her neck, his arms holding her tightly as he throbbed inside her.
“Yes . . .” He groaned with his release, and she came apart in his arms, pleasure tightening her belly, flushing her breasts, and radiating along her limbs in bliss-filled waves. When they finally stilled, the last, shuddering quakes of ecstasy subsiding, Eloise slumped against him. With their bodies still intimately connected, she savoured the closeness that went beyond the physical to a joining of their hearts
“Oh, Destrian, that was wonderful,” she said with a sigh.
“It always is.”
She chuckled at his awestruck tone. “True, though your timing leaves something to be desired.”
He lifted his head and eyed her dreamily. “My timing? I thought it was excellent.”
A smug smiled curved his well-kissed lips, and Eloise huffed a laugh. The sound turned into a whimper as the fog of desire lifted and reality came crashing down on her like an icy torrent. “I can’t believe we let ourselves get carried away when we are about to meet your parents, your royal parents.” A shudder ran through her, but not of pleasure this time.
Destrian softly stroked her cheek. “At least you will be relaxed.”
“Relaxed?” Eloise tugged her crumpled bodice and sleeves into place. “I don’t know how you can joke about it, when your parents will take one look at me and know what we’ve been doing.” She lifted herself off his finally sated member, grimacing at the stickiness.
His expression turned sheepish, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “Here, use this.”
Eloise’s cheeks warmed. Marriage involved sharing the most astonishing intimacies, but she still found this side of things unsettling. Bracing herself against the swaying of the carriage, she turned her back then cleaned herself as best she could before handing Destrian the cloth. Once they were both tidied up and their clothing righted, he drew her down to sit beside him.
“Try not to worry,” he murmured softly then kissed her brow.
Eloise harrumphed. It was easy for him to say. “I’m going to hold you to your word that I can freshen up when we reach the palace.” She rested her head against his shoulder, unable to stay annoyed with him for long. “I need to make a better impression than I did the night of the ball if I have any hope of your parents not thinking badly of me, well, no worse than I imagine they already do.”
Destrian sighed and waited for her to meet his gaze. “I wish I could assure you that everything will go smoothly, but I can’t guarantee it. What I can promise is that whatever the future holds, I am going to take care of you.”
“Just as I am going to stand by your side, no matter what.” She spoke in earnest, but Eloise couldn’t help wondering how much significance—if any—her support would carry.
Destrian closed his eyes, seemingly touched by her words. “I couldn’t ask for more.” He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “If my father can’t see what a treasure you are, then he is a fool.”
Her brows shot upward, as making such a statement when Althelos was king would have been grounds for treason. She supposed it was different when the sovereign was a close relative . . . but still.
“I mean it,” Destrian insisted, mistaking her alarm for disbelief. “My father would be mad not to adore you. You are clever, resourceful, courageous, and breathtakingly beautiful.”
Flattered, Eloise was not beyond a little teasing. “Well I don’t know about all of that, but I must have something going for me to snag a charming prince for a groom.”
“You think I am charming?” His eyes lit up, and she shook her head. He really did need her, for he seemed to have no idea how wonderful he was.
“Handsome, too.” She stifled a smirk, though it was nothing less than the truth. His brother’s looks might be more fashionable, with his curly hair and flamboyant attire, and Lord Winterfold’s height and golden locks were no doubt highly prized. But she much preferred the subtlety of Destrian’s features, the refined lines of his jaw and cheekbones, and the intensity of his gaze.
“Charming and handsome?” Destrian’s chest puffed up before his expression sobered. “Don’t forget wealthy. I have been told that attribute is high on any maiden’s list.”
“It’s a good thing it has never been high on mine.” Eloise giggled. “You just gave all your gold to Ayleth for my new gowns.”
“Oh, I have much more gold than that,” he said with a dismissive wave.
“Really?” She gave him her most flirtatious look. “If I had known how well-endowed you were, I would have moved to secure your interest sooner, Your Highness.”
Destrian’s mouth dropped open before he barked with laughter. “Oh, Eloise. You are going to fit in at court just fine.”
“Do you think so?” She ducked her head and looked at him through her lashes, all joking set aside.
“I know so.” He tucked her firmly against his side, and they sat in silence as the carriage completed its winding journey up the mountain road. When they reached the top, Destrian opened the blinds, and Eloise stared in awe at the palace, it’s towers and spires reaching to the sky
.
“You really aren’t concerned about my wealth?” he asked.
She turned away from the window to see the worry creasing his brow. “Of course not. I shall love you even if we are banished and forced to live as commoners.”
“I don’t think it will come to that, at least I hope not.” Destrian shuddered. “I’m not sure what I would do if I was required to rely on my looks and charm alone.”
Relieved to see the hint of a smile in his eyes, Eloise pretended to take his comment seriously. “Well, I could always support us. I was planning on going into business selling my herbal salves, and I could teach you how to dig for truffles. There’s good money in them.”
Destrian sniggered.
“What? You can’t see yourself crawling around on your hands and knees in the mud looking for edible fungi? There are worse ways to make a living.”
His expression sobered, and he bent his head to press a soft but lingering kiss to her lips. “I would gladly do whatever was necessary for us to be together, including scavenging in the dirt for ‘edible fungi’ if necessary.” Taking a deep breath that expanded his already broad chest, he looked out the window as they drove up to his father’s palace. “But my hope is to fulfil my original destiny . . . with you at my side.”
“Mine, too.” Eloise took comfort from the arm he placed around her shoulders . . . and the knowledge they didn’t have long to wait to find out if their hopes would be realised or dashed.
Chapter 19
Destrian stepped down from the carriage then turned and reached for Eloise’s hand. It shook when she placed it in his, and he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, wishing he could offer greater reassurance. She had re-donned her gloves, which was sensible as the morning was decidedly chill, but he doubted that was her primary motivation. He had told her he didn’t care how her hands looked, that there was no need for her to feel self-conscious or, worse still, ashamed. In truth, he hated how scarred and wounded they were, hated what she must have suffered for them to be in such a state, even as he loved them for being a part of her. Of one thing he was certain . . . she would never be treated so cruelly again.
Return of the Prince_Medieval Romance Page 19